The Long War 03 - The Red Prince (42 page)

‘You should use your contraptions straightaway,’ replied the Dokkalfar, pointing at the catapults. ‘Once the fuse is within the barrel they are watertight, and water will aid the explosion.’

‘Whatever you say,’ replied Brennan. ‘General! Catapults ready, sir.’

Xander, still standing on the frame of a loaded catapult, turned back to the sea wall. They were close now. With a calm sea and a gentle following wind, they sailed between stone pillars and straight for the heavy wooden beams. ‘Announce our presence, captain,’ said the general.

‘Fire!’ commanded Brennan.

The artillery crews, wincing at the explosive barrels, gladly unloaded their catapults. The wooden frames jerked and Xander jumped to the deck as four barrels arced away from the
Wave Runner
. Thousands of men – warriors across twenty ships, and anyone watching from the city – saw the barrels fly. They flashed into clear blue sky before plummeting back into the shadow of Ro Tiris and towards the sea wall. They hit the water and lolled against heavy wood and chains.

‘This will announce our presence,’ stated Tyr Sigurd as all four barrels detonated.

It started as a crack and a flash of white light, erupting outwards in a dome. The water magnified the explosion and the two stone towers, anchoring the wooden wall, crumbled outwards in a spray of masonry and water. The wood was reduced to splinters in the centre and flying planks of flaming wood at the edges. When the smoke and debris had cleared an entire section of the sea wall, wider than either of the shipping channels, was reduced to burning wood and twisted metal. The greatest monument of Ro irreparably damaged in one moment of fire and noise.

The
Wave Runner
crested a rising swell as the shock wave reached them, flowing under the fleet as a breaking ripple. Bells were rung and the fleet redeployed, narrowing their formation to funnel into the king’s dock.

‘Give me some speed,’ ordered Xander.

Brennan shouted orders and men scrambled to their places in the rigging, pulling ropes and unfurling sails, making the ship lurch towards the ruined sea wall. The ships behind followed suit and the fleet accelerated to ramming speed. Gwen held on to a taut rope as they approached the smoking ruin. The wood was burned to the water-line and their ram cleared any debris with ease, until they breached the wall and entered the king’s dock.

This was her first close-up sight of Ro Tiris. It was huge compared with Haran, and sat behind high walls of grey stone and acres of wooden docks. The battlements above the main gate swarmed with watchmen and hundreds more ran from Northwind Bay, clattering across wooden platforms to a long barricade. The channel defences had been turned and the catapults now pointed towards the harbour. They were well out of range, but still their crews loaded and fired. Boulders splashed harmlessly into the bay as the rest of their ships passed the collapsing sea wall and into the huge harbour beyond.

‘So far, so good, general,’ shouted Brennan. ‘Just walls and men to deal with now.’

‘Reload those catapults,’ ordered Xander. ‘Sight them at the gates.’

Sigurd and his Dokkalfar left the catapults and Hawks of Ro reloaded with heavy boulders. They cranked the frames forward and sighted them along a level plane.

Once past the sea wall, the fleet spread out again, forming a fast-moving wedge, pointed at the huge wooden dock platforms. More bells rang as commands travelled across the ships and men prepared for combat.

‘Barricade before the gate, general,’ said Brennan. ‘Few hundred men.’

‘Pull in sails,’ boomed Xander. ‘Brace for impact.’

The dock snaked into the water, resting on solid wooden pillars. The stone waterfront began well back from the dock and, as the
Wave Runner
slowed, it ploughed into wooden planks. The ram sliced into the jetties, sending more splinters across the deck and gradually bringing the ship to a halt.

There was a moment of silence. Or maybe she just imagined it was silence. It was certainly stillness. A spray of wood and water had reduced her vision for a second and she could only see Daganay and a dozen Hawks. When the air cleared, she saw hundreds of faces – nervous men of Ro aiming crossbows with shaking hands. They crouched behind a barricade on the stone waterfront, guarding the gates of their city. Then more ships smashed into the wooden platforms, bringing back chaos and noise. Twenty ships laden with warriors, weapons, catapults and supplies stopped before the walls of Ro Tiris.

‘To arms!’ Xander drew Peacekeeper and was the first to leap from the ship. He landed on hardened wood and was followed by two hundred Hawks from the
Wave Runner
. They slid down broken planks and flooded on to the dock, their voices rising in primal roars of challenge.

Gwendolyn and Daganay looked at each other and joined them, vaulting from the ship. Bells sounded all around – from their ships, indicating the attack, and from the city, signalling the defence.

Crossbow bolts flew from the barricade and men fell, but the Hawks kept moving. From other ships more feet hit the wood and the attack began. They swarmed the barricade from all sides, meeting little resistance. Xander leapt at a guardsman, cleaving in his skull with a powerful downward stroke. Brennan kicked a crossbow from a man’s hand and ran him through. Gwen and Daganay, a little way behind the others, engaged a small group of armoured men. Even as the white eagle of Tiris fronting their chain mail turned blood red, the battle had a sour note to it. Ro fought Ro and, however just their cause, their enemies were not the men before them. Their enemies were skulking behind high walls and letting common folk do their fighting.

The barricade was overturned by the Hawks and those guardsmen not already dead ran for the city walls. Over their heads, the
Wave Runner
launched two boulders at the city gates, firing horizontally. The gates were solid and reinforced with metal but they had not been tested by catapults for hundreds of years.

The initial surge was too much for the guardsmen. Once the Hawks had fought beyond the barricade and on to the wooden dock, the defenders were completely routed. Thousands of warriors – Hawks of Ro, men of Tiris, and Dokkalfar – now formed up and advanced.

Once again, she felt for the citizens of Ro Tiris. Not the watchmen or the clerics, but the ordinary folk, huddling behind shutters, seeing an army arrive at their city gates.

‘Lock shields and advance,’ commanded Xander, pulling Brennan over the barricade to join him on the dock.

Just behind, Bromvy and Tyr Sigurd had caught up with them. The Dokkalfar of Canarn did not mingle with the Hawks but were formed into a tight mob, each Tyr wielding two heavy leaf-blades.

‘Smooth,’ said Brom to Gwen. ‘I think they call that a frontal assault.’ The young lord had his sword in hand and blood dripped from the blade, showing that he had not been too late to join the initial attack.

‘Your general is direct,’ offered Sigurd, ‘but effective.’

‘He’s angry,’ replied Gwen. ‘He can be very direct when he’s angry.’

‘Maybe we should take cover,’ said Daganay, as crossbow bolts began to thud into the wooden dock around them.

Joining the advancing army, they caught up with Xander and ran to reach the walls. Men fell from rocks and crossbow bolts, but the armies of Haran and Canarn were too many and reached the walls of Tiris in quick time. The shield formation moved to cover them and they spread out along the base of the wall either side of the huge gates.

The catapult crews aboard the
Wave Runner
had stopped firing for a moment, allowing the army to reach the walls, but now they aimed and sighted with care. Both catapults fired together, sending huge boulders over the dock and into the gates of Ro Tiris.

‘Again,’ roared Xander, waving Peacekeeper at the catapult crews.

Another volley. The gates creaked and wooden splinters went flying, but the metal struts held firm, barring their passage. Two flanking ships aimed their catapults and the additional support – six large stone boulders in total – smashed the top half of the wooden gates to pieces. The metal bands kept the wood intact and there was no viable breach.

‘Hold, lads,’ commanded Brennan. ‘Keep those shields up.’ His words were punctuated by the thud of rocks thrown from above and impacting on the raised shields.

‘We can’t stay here long,’ said Brom, hugging the wall next to Gwendolyn. They’ll have hot oil and pitch.’

‘The gates will give,’ replied Xander stubbornly. ‘Again!’ he shouted.

Just as Gwen was beginning to doubt the wisdom of their frontal assault, the catapults fired again. They were well aimed and caused a huge cloud of dust and splinters to fly up, and there was a thud as the boulders landed in the stone street beyond.

Her ears rang. Once the dust had cleared, the gates were gone. The metal had buckled and skeletal remnants of wood hung limply either side of the stone gateway.

‘Brennan, lock shields and advance. I want to know what’s inside,’ ordered the general.

‘Tight formation!’ shouted the captain, and a hundred men of the first cohort assumed a defensive posture, locking their rectangular shields into a solid protective block. Rocks were still being thrown down from above and crossbow bolts fired, but they only struck the raised shields as Brennan moved the cohort towards the open gateway.

‘Steady!’ he commanded from within the tight formation.

The shell of Hawks advanced and halted, slamming their shields to the ground and maintaining their defensive position. Xander motioned for men to follow and moved quickly behind the formation, keeping his head low and Peacekeeper high. Brom joined him and the two lords of Tor Funweir peered through the open gateway.

‘Sigurd,’ said Brom. ‘Think you can get up to the battlements?’

‘Most definitely,’ replied the Dokkalfar, thrusting out his chin.

Gwen stayed back, hugging the wall with Daganay under a ceiling of interlocked shields. She could not see any defensive assault from within the walls, and Brennan’s advance cohort had not been attacked with either blades or bows. Whoever was guarding the inner courtyard had allowed the formation to advance into the gateway.

‘I am the Red Prince of Ro Haran,’ shouted Xander, addressing whoever was there. ‘We are the Hawks of Ro. Stand down and you will not be harmed. The city that bears my name is now under my protection.’

‘Prince Alexander!’ came a response. ‘This is Cardinal Severen. By what right do you sail an army into the king’s dock?’

Daganay spat at the man’s name. ‘I hate Purple clerics,’ he said through gritted teeth.

Gwen moved forwards, motioning for the Blue cleric to follow, and the two of them crouched behind the advance cohort. Beyond the shattered gates, wooden barricades circled the inner courtyard, blocking their passage into the city streets. Overhead the white Spire of the King and the clenched fist of the Red cathedral competed to dominate of the skyline. Hundreds of steel and leather helmets poked above the barricades and many more men skulked on rooftops and battlements. Some aimed crossbows, some brandished blades and spears. The urban warriors of Tiris were professionals, but they were not an army.

‘Where’s the cardinal hiding?’ mused Daganay, pointing to a statue. ‘I think I see purple over there.’

The statue was of a Gold cleric, gleefully hefting bags of coin.

‘We are not here to sack the city, cardinal,’ replied Xander in a shout. ‘We are here to liberate it from the Seven Sisters.’

Severen’s response was a virtual shriek. ‘Lord Archibald Tiris commands here. Your actions mark you as a traitor, Prince Alexander. We will never betray our beloved allies.’

Gwen followed his voice and saw a small group of purple-clad warriors behind the statue. They were beyond the barricades, protected by lesser clerics, with their backs to the knight marshal’s office.

‘General!’ she shouted to her husband. ‘The cleric speaks from the gold statue.’

‘Advance!’ commanded Xander, without replying.

The first cohort, still locked in tightly behind their shields, spread out and covered the entranceway as two more cohorts moved to join them. Behind, the army had moved on to the stone waterfront and was holding position behind shield walls. Tyr Sigurd and two dozen forest-dwellers of Canarn had disappeared along the outer wall.

‘Keep it tight,’ shouted Brennan, as the first few hundred Hawks cleared the gateway and entered Ro Tiris.

‘This advance stops when you surrender,’ said Xander. ‘Don’t make us kill any more men of Ro. And don’t make me kill you.’

They were now within the courtyard, their steel-shod boots clattering on the cobbled ground.

Shouting from the guardsmen. Orders were passed and men moved quickly to strengthen the barricades. Those on high ground fired crossbows against the shield wall and others prepared cauldrons of boiling oil.

A scream came from above and a guardsman fell to the cobbles, his head severed from his body. More bodies fell as Tyr Sigurd and the Dokkalfar swept across the battlements.

‘Risen men!’ screamed a man of Ro. ‘Monsters, risen to haunt us.’

The forest-dwellers made no noise and Gwen had to crane her neck to see them. They whirled and cartwheeled across the stone, killing men with inhuman efficiency.

‘Kill the creatures,’ ordered Severen, emerging from cover with his fellow clerics.

The first cohort sped up. With no more crossbow bolts or pitch to concern them, they quickly reached the far barricade. In front, the main road led away from the harbour, past the knight marshal’s office, to the white Spire of the King and the House of Tiris.

‘Last chance,’ roared Xander, as the first cohort halted.

‘We will fight to the last man,’ replied Severen, making himself visible for the first time.

The Purple cardinal of Ro Tiris, second only to Mobius of the Falls, was a tall man, well armoured in gold and steel, with a broken nose and a lame right arm.

‘Don’t be a fucking fool,’ shouted Daganay, unleashing his frustration. ‘Don’t die for an enchantress.’

‘She loves us!’ shrieked the cardinal. ‘Kill them all.’